


His Brittanic Majesty Requests

by krikkiter68



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Bisexuality, Bondage, Cock Worship, Fluff, Food Play, M/M, Oral Sex, Roleplay, Royal Crush, Slash, Spanking, The King is a cuddler, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-09-01 12:11:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16764904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krikkiter68/pseuds/krikkiter68
Summary: It's a rather extraordinary day for Ryan.  Not that he minds.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> N.B. Ryan is over the age of 18 in canon and this story and is a fully consenting adult.
> 
> I've tried to portray Ryan's possible thought patterns, however I don't have dyspraxia myself so if I've got it wrong please feel free to tell me.

(Because it’s not a normal sort of day, is it?)

Five months ago, he was trying, and failing, to ride a bike. He’d had the bruises to prove it. 

Today, he’s sitting on a throne, dressed in a jewelled, ermine-lined robe, with a heavy, slightly-too-large crown on his head. He’s wearing very little else. In the palm of his left hand he cradles a golden sceptre. 

(It means something or other but it’s not important right now.)

His right hand grips the curls of King James I. His attention is fixated on the man’s indented cheeks, and the bobbing…

(Apple-bobbing? That’s a thing, right?) 

…of his head, and a tongue stroking the underside of his erection and the strange and wonderful way it feels. In fact, the whole situation is weird and distracting, but also, well…

(What’s the word? Erotic. Wow.)

And this whole sex thing, he hasn’t had much experience of that. Yaz, he likes her, more than likes her, outright fancies her, actually, but he reckons she’s got a thing for the Doctor. Fair enough. 

(Get back in the moment.) 

He never thought he’d be in a sexual situation with a King of England and Scotland…

(that’s putting it mildly) 

…but he can’t say he minds. Particularly when the King flicks his tongue in that specific way, and does it again, and again…

He gasps as he comes, his hand pulling those curls, his back arches against the hard mahogany of the throne. King James I swallows around him, his eyes closing in pleasure.

(Wow. That looks nice.)

The King slowly releases him from the warm grip of his mouth, smiles up at him, amber lights playing in the depths of his dark, mischievous eyes.

“Mmm. Nectar,” he purrs.

A wave of tiredness crashes over Ryan. He blinks.

“Thank you, Sire…” he manages. The King chuckles, then stands. Ryan feels the King’s warm hand ghosting over his.

“It is you I should thank, my beauty. Shall we retire to my bedchamber?”

“OK,” Ryan says. “Why not?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Don is a river in Sheffield.

(The bed, though.)

It’s really something, the bed, a vast four poster in exquisitely carved dark wood, with a plump feather mattress and gorgeous golden drapes. The jewels on the bedspread sparkle in the candlelight.

(God it’s beautiful in here.)

Both he and the King are completely naked, and he’s got his hand wrapped around the King’s hard cock, concentrating on keeping up a steady rhythm. He’s never confident about his co-ordination, but judging by the King’s reactions, he’s doing something right.

“God in Heaven,” pants the King, thrusting his hips upwards in time with Ryan’s downward strokes, “you glorious youth. Michaelangelo himself would die for the chance to sculpt you. The enchanter Merlin would be envious of the spell you weave. I wish nothing but to kiss every inch of your divine form, to worship you, adore you…”

(Blimey. No one’s ever told me I’m handsome. I like it though.)

“…O beautiful African prince,” the King gasps, his voice strangled, “you pearl beyond price, you jewel of the Nile…”

(Jewel of the Don, actually, mate.)

“You…you…ahhh…you angel!” the King cries, as his come streaks over Ryan’s fist. He collapses back against the mattress. Then, slightly to Ryan’s surprise, he takes Ryan’s hand in his and brings it to his mouth, taking each finger in turn into his mouth and sucking suggestively, his long-lashed eyes closing in pleasure.

“Mmmm,” he murmurs once he’s come up for air, “you have such beautiful hands. I can think of sooo many things you could do to me with those hands. If…you’d like?” he says, raising his finely-arched brows.

“Err, thanks. I’ll think about it…Sire.” 

The King raises his hand in demurral, looking amused.

“I think it’s time for us to dispense with formalities, my lovely young man.”

(Oh, yeah?)

“Why don’t you call me…”

The King’s lips part and form into a vulpine smile.

“…Jim?”


	3. Chapter 3

He can barely believe it.

He’s fucking the King of England and Scotland. The actual King. For real.

(That escalated quickly.)

Whatever would his Nan say?

(love you Nan but can’t talk to you right now, busy)

“Go on, son,” with a laugh, probably.

The King writhes underneath him, his wrists restrained by two of the many silk drapes of the four-poster bed. Ryan’s thin yet strong arms tremble with the effort of holding himself upright as he thrusts forward.

“Take me,” the King moans, canting his hips upwards.

Thank goodness he always carries a condom. As Graham said to him, in one of his candid man-to-man talks which he was at least half-listening to, you can never be too careful.

Actually it was two condoms but one of them fell out of his jacket pocket and the Doctor blew it up and tried to make it into a balloon animal.

“Harder, my brave stallion,” pants the King. 

Ryan grins: the guy’s really into this. Time to give him what he wants.

He hooks his arms underneath the King’s knees and spreads his thighs wide. Raises himself onto his haunches and rams himself into the King’s tight heat, balls thumping against his body. The King’s eyes roll back and his gasps raise in pitch to short, strangled shrieks.

“That’s it…ride me hard…ride me deep,” cries the King.

“Like that?” Ryan gasps, thrusting harder, deeper. “You like that, do you, Jim?”

He rolls his hips, once, twice, and the King’s mouth widens into a silent scream, his body taut, about to snap.

“Can’t hear you! I said, do you like it? Answer me!”

“Yes! I-I love it! Your…Your Majesty!” the King yells.

He comes, streaking his pale abdomen with white, and stars explode in Ryan’s head as he comes too.


	4. Chapter 4

The King takes the mango slice from Ryan’s proffered hand, holds it up to the candlelight and frowns, intently studying its shining form.

(sort of seeing it from his side, it looks a bit like a goldfish)

Then he brings the slice to his mouth, hesitates, and rams the whole thing into his mouth. His dark eyes widen, then close. He giggles, then moans in pleasure, a thin dribble of juice escaping the side of his mouth and flowing into his beard. Chews slowly, swallows, then, with an outrageous display of sensuality, licks his lips. Ryan feels his cheeks flushing.

“…Oh, that was…divine!” the King sighs, running his hand up Ryan’s long left thigh. “Angel, did you ascend to some paradisal garden of Heaven itself to pluck such a delicious fruit?”

(Christ I’m beginning to really like this guy)

“Nah,” Ryan says, smiling, “got it in a pack at Tescos. You can have another one if you like.”

“Whomsoever they be,” the King says, dreamily, “they shall receive a King’s reward. “But now,” he says, his eyes turning wicked, “I feel I should worship you, my angel. What would you have me do?”

(I could give you a few suggestions mate but I bet you’d outdo me)

“Um...it’s up to you, Jim,” Ryan says.

The King strokes his cheek.

“So beautiful, and yet so shy,” he murmurs. “Sweetest one. There is no need to be bashful. I live only to serve you. But, since you ask…”

Ryan starts with surprise as the King leans in and kisses him, slowly and sensually. His mouth tastes of mango, and his beard is surprisingly soft. He relaxes, then, as the kiss continues, he slides a hand round the back of the King’s head and grasps his curls.

(wow, he’s good at this)

The King breaks the kiss, then smiles at him.

“Forgive me, angel, but your manhood appears to be excited. May I…soothe him?”

“Go ahead,” Ryan gasps.

He watches as the King scoots down the bed and settles himself between his spread thighs. Watches as the King’s hand encircles his cock and strokes him, firmly yet gently, watches as the King’s sparkling eyes never leave his.

(oh God YES)

Watches his own hips leaving the bed, hard and aching for the King’s touch, mind swooning as the King praises his cock, again and again, spiralling towards some imaginary mango heaven and the King’s licking his lips…with…that wicked…tongue…

(YES!)

He comes in the King’s face, groaning as he watches the King licking his come from his lips 

(sexy bastard)

then subsides, panting, against the satin-covered feather mattress. The King gazes up at him, smiling, as he collects a stray thread of come from his beard, then licks it from his forefinger.

“Hmm,” he murmurs. “Ambrosia.”

(Like rice pudding, does he mean?)

The King rolls over, then crawls up the bed towards him, takes him in his arms. Ryan relaxes into his warm embrace.

“Angel,” the King murmurs, kissing his forehead. “But we are fatigued. Let us sleep now.”


	5. Chapter 5

The King stands almost on tiptoe and leans in close, one hand on Ryan’s shoulder.

“Angel,” he whispers, “trust in me. Close your eyes.”

Ryan closes his eyes, then feels himself being gently led, the King’s much smaller hand lost in his.

(Christ how long is this corridor anyway?)

Finally, the air freshens and light glimmers against his closed eyelids, red fading into green.

“You can open them now, angel,” he hears.

Ryan opens his eyes to dappled light, to greenery, the moss-covered trunks of oaks and the delicate silver skin of beech trees. But that’s not the most extraordinary thing.

(oh my days that’s just mad)

In front of him, an ornate swing, dazzling white, the silken rope decorated with gold and silver ribbon. The King grins, hugging himself and swaying from side to side, excited as a youngster despite his age.

“Like it?” he asks, giggling. “Like it?”

“Wow, yeah,” Ryan says.

The King cranes his neck upwards and kisses him, then murmurs against his skin,

“Take me for a wild ride…”

Ryan sits on the swing, gripping the silken ropes. The King parts Ryan’s ermine-lined robe, exposing him, licks his lips. Watches as Ryan rolls a condom down his length…

(Three condoms. Just remembered, it was three.)

…reaches inside for the small pouch, slicks a generous amount of lube over his dick, grips the ropes again.

The King kisses him again, straddles him as he hitches up his white cotton nightgown.

“Hold on tight,” he husks.

Lowers himself, and Ryan gasps as he’s instantly engulfed in the King’s tight, wet heat, and it doesn’t stop until the King’s balls are resting warm against his skin and the King’s legs are wrapped tightly around his hips, heels against his back.

The King laughs, slightly breathlessly.

“Let us fly together, angel.”

“Yeah,” Ryan murmurs back, leaning back, holding tight, preparing to start.

(not normally great at this but wow it’s not hard now)

Swings higher and faster, bodies in motion, locked together, the King’s hands far above him, clinging onto the rope, groaning long and loud into his mouth as they kiss.

Swinging higher..

(oh)

Higher…

(ah)

And higher... 

(AH)

He cries out as he comes, every sinew taut, the King kissing him frantically, drowning his gasping cries. Slumps slightly, the swing slowing, calming, until they’re back on land. The King smiles tenderly at him.

“Wow, mate,” Ryan gasps. “That was brilliant.”

“Oh, angel. The pleasure was all mine.”

The King grins.

“It was so forward of me, wasn’t it? So naughty,” he says, kissing the tip of Ryan’s nose. “Won’t you spank me?”

Ryan thinks for a second.

“Yeah. Anything you like.”


	6. Chapter 6

"Comfortable?" Ryan murmurs. 

A white-clad figure lies across his lap. He strokes their long, golden hair with the back of his hand. They turn their head and a pair of sparkling dark eyes meet his.

"Always, dear one," the King murmurs. 

He bats his long eyelashes at Ryan. His eyes are lined with kohl, his lips rouged. 

"Now, sire," he murmurs, "I am a naughty maiden, and I must be punished."

"Right," Ryan says.

He literally has no experience with it, but he likes the King, and, well, whatever he wants, really.

He raises the hem of the King's dress, and wonders how many people he's done this with, how many of his favourites, until the King's cheeks are fully exposed, soft and inviting in the flickering candlelight. He feels the King's cock harden against his thighs.

"Yes," Ryan murmurs. "You're a naughty girl, aren't you?"

"Oh, sir," the King squeaks, "punish me. I deserve it, sir."

"What did you do?" Ryan says. 

(now there's a story emerging)

"I...I touched myself, sir. Whilst thinking about you, sir. I think you should spank me, sir."

Ryan brings his right hand down in a gentle slap on the King's left cheek, watches it jiggle. He smiles. The King gasps, thrusts gently against his thighs. He slaps the right.

"Oh! Oh, sir! Thank you! You should punish me again, for such wicked thoughts..."

"What did you think about?"

"You, sir. I dream of...your huge member...inside me. The two of us rutting. Like farmyard animals..."

Ryan smacks the King's arse, harder and faster. Then he reaches into the inside of his jacket pocket, finds a sachet of lube. He tears it open, coats his fingers, and grins at the way the King jumps as he strokes his puckered opening.

"You were rutting, you say? Tell me how it felt. Like this?" Ryan says.

The King moans low as Ryan slides his index finger deep inside. Ryan can feel him fluttering.

"Oh sir! Thank you! Yes, yes, but...bigger..."

Ryan slides in another finger, then another. The King's keening now, babbling, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Yes! Oh, so big and YES! Like that, so hard and deep inside me, from behind, oh sir, it's so wonderful..."

Ryan picks up the pace, thrusting his fingers harder, the King bucking back against his hand. The King squeals as Ryan spanks again with his free hand.

"Oh, sir, YES! Punish me...fuck me!"

(whatever you want, love)

Ryan angles his fingers and the King screams, and he feels wet warmth spreading over his thighs. He holds his hand steady, letting his lover ride out the aftershocks, until he collapses, panting.

Then the King turns his head, takes off the blonde wig, and smiles.

"Surprise," he whispers, breathlessly. "It's me, darling."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the lovely comments on this work! :)

They’re lying together, sweating and exhausted, slumped against the feather mattress. The King recovers his breath, then coquettishly turns to Ryan, strokes his cheek.

“Angel mine,” he murmurs, “I must away to London. Won’t you come with me? Be my favourite at court?”

Ryan swallows, hard.

(let the poor guy down gently)

“Ah…that’s a very kind offer…Jim. But I’ve…I’ve got to get back to my friends. They need me.”

“I see,” the King says, in a voice that seems to have no breath behind it. He turns over onto his back and sighs, reaches for Ryan’s hand, strokes it.

“I’m really sorry, mate,” Ryan says, meaning it.

“I understand. I, too, have my duties to attend to. My kingdom, and my Queen, my wife.”

Ryan frowns.

“You’re…you’re married?” 

The King chuckles and turns to face Ryan again.

“What’s the matter, dear one? Are you jealous?”

“Nah…just, you know, a bit surprised.”

“My dear youth. The heart is a most fantastical organ. It holds many chambers. I love my darling wife, but…oh, my dear one, I love you, too. I love you to the stars and back.”

“Uh…that’s nice. Quite appropriate, actually. That’s where I’m going.”

The King smiles.

“I thought so. With the Doctor. She is quite a remarkable woman, is she not?”

And Ryan smiles, too.

“She certainly is.”

“Perhaps you should propose to her? What an alliance you would make, the pair of you. You could rule the universe, together.”

“Oh, it’s not like that. We’re friends, nothing more.”

The King squeezes his hand.

“And yet I feel she is not fond of me. Would you think that a fair assessment?”

“Jim,” Ryan says. He rolls over and gives the King a slow, loving kiss on the lips. “She doesn’t know you like I do. I’m sure she’d like you, given a bit of time.”

The King grins, pulling Ryan closer to him.

“Would it be very wicked of me to request a trip with you all?”

Ryan laughs, softly.

“I’ll ask her.”

“All of time and space,” murmurs the King. “Where shall we go? Whom should we meet?”

“Oh, Jim,” whispers Ryan, “I know someone you’re gonna absolutely love,” he says, and kisses him.

(Who else is it gonna be but Freddie Mercury?

I’ve just gotta introduce him to Freddie.)

THE END


End file.
